Break
by Astoria02
Summary: Takes place in the near future after Klaus's death. Elena is clearly distressed about what's happened and Damon tries to comfort her.


Part I

"It's done," Stefan said as he threw the oak stake across the room. It clanked against the wall before hitting the floor and rolling out of sight. Elena looked at Stefan, a thin sheet of sweat covering her forehead. Her eyes darted to the body on the floor. It was not a body anymore, she noticed. Klaus was now disintegrated into dust.

Damon, who had been standing a few feet behind Elena, grasped her by the shoulders and said in a low voice, "I think we should all leave." He looked up at his brother and Stefan nodded.

"Bonnie," Stefan said, nodding to the witch who stood paces away from the pile of dust. Bonnie closed her eyes and murmured a spell under her breath. The dust floated in the air. A light that came from Bonnie's hands swirled around the dust, encompassing it in a great ball of light. Then, as soon as it all happened, it was done.

Done.

Elena couldn't believe that it all was over with. Klaus was dead and everyone— and she took a deep breath as she thought this—was alive. She nodded and let Damon take her away from the room. She had been strong throughout the whole process and now, finally out of the room and having a chance to take it all in, she suddenly felt week, her knees giving in under her.

"Whoa," Damon said, catching her before she hit the floor. She felt his arms circle her frail body as he picked her up. "I'll take you home," he said.

"No," Elena whispered, her eyes dropping close. "I can't."

"Can't what?" Damon asked her, furrowing his brow.

"I can't stay alone tonight, please," she said before falling asleep. Damon looked around for Stefan. This wasn't the sort of situation he wanted to get into. This looked bad as it was; Damon didn't want Stefan thinking that he would take advantage.

Because even if he wanted her, he wouldn't do anything like that without her knowing.

Damon took her out into her car and positioned her in the passenger's seat, leaning it back so that she would be almost lying down. He went to the driver's seat, turned on the ignition, and drove to the boarding house.

When they arrived, Stefan was already waiting for them in the living room. He stood up to pick Elena but Damon shook his head and mouthed, "I'll take her." He took Elena up to the guest room, feeling a pang of jealousy as he passed Stefan's room and thought about the many times Stefan had slept with her in this room. He couldn't help what he felt for Elena but maybe he could bury it inside him as deep as he could.

Damon opened the guest room door as quietly as he could and then plopped Elena's body down on the bed. He brushed away a strand of hair from her face and kissed her forehead. She stirred under his touch but didn't wake, so Damon left the room.

"How is she?" Stefan asked when Damon came downstairs.

"She's asleep," Damon answered, taking a glass and pouring some Scotch into it. He swirled it and took it all in one drink.

Stefan approached his brother and allowed himself one glass. He raised it and said, "Thank you for what you did today." He took the glass to his lips and drank. He felt the hotness of the alcohol burning down his inside and winced.

Damon furrowed his brown and nodded, serving himself another glass. "I didn't do anything," Damon said. It was true. Stefan had been the one to stake Klaus, he had been the one to finally off the original. Damon hadn't done anything significant.

His brother shook his head and said, "No, Damon. You protected her while I was too busy playing hero." Damon was shocked at the words that came out of his brother's mouth. Granted, he had always claimed Stefan was too much of a hero for his own sake but he'd never thought that Stefan would actually admit it.

"I didn't do it for you," Damon said and raised his eyebrows. He threw himself across the couch and sighed. It had been a long day; he might as well get some rest. Damon was so tired he doubted he'd be able to get up to go to his own room.

"Oh, I know," Stefan admitted, glancing up the stairs in the general direction where Elena was. Damon resisted the temptation of looking in the same direction. Finally, without another word, Stefan climbed up the stairs to his room.

It was done, Damon thought, finally experimenting with those words in the tip of his tongue. The originals where all killed, Katherine was dead, and there was nothing left—he was not needed anymore. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure Elena in his mind. This girl who had caused him so much pain and agony, the one he'd risked everything for. She was still unattainable and now that everything was done with, she didn't need his protection anymore.

For the first time in his life, Damon felt like his life didn't make sense. He was supposed to be rejoicing and celebration but instead, he felt like his time was over.

Damon woke to a scream so bone-chilling it seemed to have come from right beside him. He looked around, expecting to see some kind of supernatural being (the irony) causing the scream but there was nothing. Looking up to where Elena was, Damon suspected it had been her. He settled back into the couch, thinking that Stefan would get to her and quiet her down. Damon couldn't help but think that Stefan would take her in his arms, tell her everything was okay, kiss her, and God knows what else until she fell asleep again. The thought made him nauseous but he closed his eyes, willing sleep to come to him again.

This time, he was sure it was Elena. When her scream pierced his dreams, he was awake and up the stairs in her room before the blink of an eye. Before entering, though, Damon pried open the door a few inches to see if Stefan was inside. He wasn't. Damon stood silent but couldn't hear his brother.

_Fuck, where is he?_ Damon thought. But when Elena screamed again, this time even louder, he forgot all about his brother and entered the room. Elena was thrashing in bed, using her limbs to kick at something in her dreams. Her clothes clung to her sweaty body and Damon could see that her dream caused her pain by the agonized look she had in her face.

Damon approached the bed and lowered his head next to Elena's ear. He placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed the soft area of skin, hoping that it would calm her. "Elena," he whispered, feeling partly ridiculous for all this. "Elena," he said again a bit louder, using his hand to gently shake her awake.

Elena's eyes fluttered open and she gasped. Damon took his other hand and clutched her hand with it. He looked into her eyes and could only register pain in them."Sh, Elena. Everything is okay. It's me." Elena's breathing started to return to normal. Her eyes were unfocused and when she found Damon's she started crying.

Her body was shaking and Damon took her in his arms, hugging her close. "Damon?" she said, her voice unsure, as if by muttering a single word she would shatter.

"Elena, what's wrong?" Damon asked her, holding her apart from him.

She breathed in and shook her head. "Just a bad dream. It's over," she said. After a second's hesitation, she lay back down in the bed. (She didn't close her eyes; she was too afraid.) "Where's Stefan?" she asked. Damon's jaw tightened and he looked out the door.

"I suspect he's hunting. But I'll tell Saint Stefan to come by when he gets home," Damon said and stood up. He hated what she did to him. How could it be that one second she was so close to him—so close he could almost taste her—and the next she built a wall of ice, shutting him off?

"Don't leave." It was barely a whisper, a small voice caught by the wind that travelled to his ears. He stopped and looked at her. She was beautiful, that much was true. But she also looked worried and unhealthy, as if she couldn't hold her body together for much longer. Damon suspected it had something to do with everything she's gone through.

"I have to, Elena," he said. It was his last hope that she wouldn't insist. If she did, he knew he would stay. He knew he would stay beside her through eternity as long as she wanted him there. The words were barely out of his mouth when Elena shook her head.

"Please, I—I can't sleep." She sounded like a child scared of the night. He imagined Elena as a kid, turning the nightlight in her room on and searching under the bed for the monsters. But couldn't she realize that the monster she was searching for was now lying in bed next to her, hugging her closer to his body?

She didn't scream like she would have if she were a kid. She didn't run away and called for Mommy. She'd come to her bed, hug her (like he was doing now) and sing her to sleep. Pray to whatever god she believed on that her daughter would never be scared in her life. But Elena wasn't a child, there wasn't a Mommy, and the only prayer Damon knew was so old he wasn't sure he remembered the words correctly.

Even if she tried, Elena couldn't sleep. Her hear was racing with fear and she couldn't shake the nightmares from her memory. She wanted to erase it all. She didn't want to remember anything that had happened. But she couldn't. She was Elena and it had been her curse to see everything that happened.

It was her course to feel every single second of it. She slightly tilted her head to see if Damon was asleep. "I can't sleep, Elena," he said, as if reading her thoughts.

Elena sat up (ignoring the pain in her muscles as she did so) and leaned her head against the backboard of the bed. Damon did the same, except he was looking at her. His eyes showed worry, if just a bit of curiosity.

_Those eyes._

She looked away, pushing back the pain that it caused her to look at him. She thought about Stefan hunting and how, if he were to return at this second and open the door, he would find a compromising scene before him. The thought scared her and she slipped out bed and attempted to stand up but her legs gave out underneath her.

Damon caught her before she hit the floor. He couldn't help thinking that he'd been there to catch her too many times in these last few days. She would shatter—he thought—if he didn't.

_Break._

"You can't leave, Elena. You're obviously not in condition," he said, trying to add a bit of harshness in his tone but failed. Her eyes, half-closed and tired, looked at him; and all he wanted to do at that moment was kiss her, as if by kissing her he would bring her strength back. As if by kissing her he could almost make her feel better.

But he knew that kissing her would only complicate things. So he settled for laying her back on the bed and brushing away a strand of hair from her face. "Tell me you'll stay," she said.

He nodded. He'll stay, even if staying here beside her might kill him in ways Katherine's absence hadn't in one hundred and fifty years.


End file.
